


Situational Red

by Cephy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Birthday, Caliginous Romance, Depression, Fluff, Flushed Romance, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Second Person, Post-Canon, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-07
Updated: 2011-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephy/pseuds/Cephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is John Egbert, and it is your fourteenth birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Situational Red

Your name is John Egbert, and it is your fourteenth birthday.

Under other circumstances, you would probably be happy about this. Last year, for example. Last year there was cake, and presents, and your dad and your friends and the prospect of playing what seemed like a pretty sweet new game.

This year, well, you've still got your friends, and some new ones besides. But this year, your dad is gone. This year you're stuck on an asteroid with the only three remaining humans in the universe-- in a couple of universes-- and twelve trolls. There's nothing to look forward to except more of the same, for as long as it takes to figure out how to fix everything, if it can be fixed at all.

Happy birthday, you.

If someone was to look in from the outside-- not that anyone's doing that anymore-- they would probably say you are moping. Because though you tell yourself you're not avoiding anyone, you really kind of are. If you met up with your friends, your human friends, they'd all wish you a happy birthday and then you'd have to smile and be happy with them. Unless they forget, of course; it's hard to keep track of time out here where earth calendars don't even exist. You wouldn't be able to blame them for forgetting, but it would still kind of hurt a little. So either way, it's easier to just avoid the situation entirely.

"There you are, bulgemunch. Your human lackeys have been looking for you, though I can't imagine why they bother."

It's kind of a relief that the one who eventually finds you is Karkat. At least with him, you definitely don't have to play happy. He'd probably be mortally offended if you tried.

"What the fuck are you doing in here, anyway? No one comes all the way down here. This is like-- the ultimate shitsponge end of the asteroid, and it smells like it, too." He pauses. "Actually, wait, that might just be you."

It's pretty weak as far as insults go. You've heard Karkat go off on some truly awe-inspiring haterants; he must have just woken up or something this time. Still, it's a good thing you've built up a bit of a tolerance to this sort of thing by now, because otherwise given the mood you're in you probably wouldn't take it too well.

Your ears are kind of ringing. Someone's yelling nearby, it seems: something about _well ex-fucking-cuse me for being a little out of sorts. Normal kids, normal earth kids on a normal earth having a normal fourteen birthday would be at home with their parents and their friends, planning a party or something. Normal fourteen-year-old kids are playing games-- ha ha-- or maybe thinking about kissing someone from their class behind the gym shed. What am I doing? Living on a fucking asteroid after not saving the world, trying to manage some weird anti-romance with an alien._

Oh hey. It's you. You're the one yelling. Wonder when that started?

Karkat just kind of stares at you until the yelling comes to a close, some time later, his eyes gone wide and his mouth hanging open just a bit. It looks pretty silly, but you can't seem to catch your breath enough to laugh.

"Uh. Wow. Okay", Karkat says slowly. "Okay, don't-- don't take this the wrong way or anything. But I'm-- I'm just suddenly feeling-- shit, you are so fucking pathetic."

He walks up to you, hesitates for one long second, then lifts his arms in a jerky sort of fashion and gives you an honest-to-Jegus _hug_.

You are understandably shocked; this is nothing like what you've come to expect from kismesissitude. You still can't claim to one-hundred-percent get the whole love-to-hate thing-- because you're just a fucking weak-panned human and can't be expected to understand how real relationships work, as Karkat himself is so fond of saying. But you try really hard because that's what Karkat seems to need, and you like to think that maybe you're getting the hang of it.

Even making exceptions for your admittedly limited understanding, you'd call this a distinctly red-tinged moment.

But-- didn't Karkat once say that red and black were very volatile? Prone to-- switching. Oh.

Eyes suddenly prickly, you put your own arms up and hug back.

There's a pile of something in the corner-- honestly, you're not looking at it too closely, it's halfway comfortable and that's good enough. You end up lying together on it, and that's-- nice. Really nice, actually; just about perfect.

"Don't worry," you say eventually. "Tomorrow I'll probably be fine again." You're feeling better already, actually. Not, y'know, good enough to get up just yet. But better.

"Yeah, and tomorrow I'll go back to wanting to pull your dumb human intestines out your freaky human navel. Just-- shut your wordflap until then, all right?" Karkat follows his own advice, shuts up, and leans over until he can gnaw at your lip in a way that you can probably be forgiven for thinking affectionate.

As a distraction goes, it's very effective.


End file.
